An-Te
by livinglittlelie
Summary: AU where Sherlock goes to 221B Baker street looking for John's help after a fangirl injects him something.


Doctor John Watson went home at his usual hour, but was surprised when he didn't find Sherlock at home. Would he have gone to a case? It couldn't be, he would have called him, so where was he?

He dropped his jacket on his armchair and went to the kitchen in order to make some tea.

The water was almost boiling when he heard a loud noise outside. He grabbed his gun and carefully opened the door, but he didn't expect what he saw there. Sherlock was leaning to the wall, trying not to fall again. He was sweaty and his breathing was hard.

"Sherlock! What the hell happened?" the doctor hurried to help him

"Later. Help me go upstairs."

They climbed up the stairs, and when they finally arrived to their flat he helped the detective to lie on the sofa. He went to the kitchen and took the kettle out of the fire.

"So tell me, what is going on?"

"I was coming home when a fat girl with black hair and an punk look recognized me. She asked me to sign an autograph."

"And you rejected her."

"I did, but in a very kind way I may say. And when I was leaving, she injected me something."

"She WHAT?"

"Don't worry, it's not lethal, I would be dead now. I also have the squirt here, so I can analyze what is inside my organism."

He tried to get up, but he was too drowsy to stand up and almost fell to the floor.

"Hey, take it easy. If it's not going to kill you there is no rush."

"Thank you..." he sighed "On the squirt are written some letters... An-Te... i think together they meant something in another language... Spanish I think... but it doesn't make sense..."

John turned around, leaving him thinking about what could be a new mini case and began preparing two teas, one for him, an Earl gray, and one for Sherlock.

He realized the detective had spent some time without saying anything, which was strange of him, and when he was about to turn around, he felt something hard pressed on his back, and a hot body behind him.

"You know John... I think I don't usually thank you for your hard work."

He shivered slightly, feeling suddenly nervous.

"My pleasure."

He felt his nape caressed with what he thought was the detective's nose doing soft circles and his hands tugged the table, his pulse quickening and his breathing becoming more superficial.

"It always amuses me... the human feelings of desire, and the way they are expressed physically..." he purred with his baritone voice "Only a subtle touch can make one person lose his mind, his breathing become quicker, his pupils widen, the nervousness overtakes his body..." he licked his ear lube, which gave him goose bumps "Then there comes something stronger than jitters, desire. Your gonads begin to secrete hormones that go to your circulatory system and stimulate desire receptors..."

John wasn't aware that Sherlock wasn't talking about an hypothetical situation anymore. Everything he could think about was the deepness of his voice and the heat he was starting to feel, specially concentrated under his hips.

"I solved the mystery again, John. I know what she injected me." he mumbled against his neck.

"And what is it?" He managed to respond

"The letters, An-Te, are abbreviations of androgens and testosterone. She injected me hormones."

He shivered against his lips and he chuckled, amused.

"Turn around."

"Sherlock..."

"Turn around."

He did what he said and ended facing the detective, his clear blue eyes darkened because of his dilated pupils. His lips were red and begging for attention. He tried to resist the urge of kissing his... he didn't even know now, but suddenly Sherlock made a move. He leaned forward and kissed him roughly, capturing his lips with his teeth and directly putting his tongue inside his mouth. John reacted quickly and returned the kiss with need. Need that had been there all the time and he didn't know.

He tugged his dark curls approaching him, making him moan, and leaned even more on the table. He could feel his erection begging for freedom, never been as hard as he was then. Sherlock rubbed his tights against his and he groaned. Their mouths separated searching for some air.

"Help me John... I can't control myself."

He removed the doctor's jumper and rushed to undo his shirt buttons. John did the same, eager to feel him, discover if he was as white in every part of his body. When both of them finished, they contemplated each other.

Sherlock's skin was very white, and his body was well-built, which didn't seem logical from a man who used to spend his life eating the minimum and spending long times without moving an inch. If he looked closer, he could notice some freckles on his chest, and needle marks on his left arm which always reminded him of his past drug addiction.

Sherlock touched the scar on his shoulder and took his time looking at it.

"It's beautiful..." he leaned forward and kissed it, making his boner throb.

He took his head with his both hands and kissed him deeply, trying to weaken the desire but only making it stronger. The rushed rhythm began again, both of them eager to feel more, to know more.

Sherlock suddenly stopped, looked at his eyes and slowly took his hand. He guided him to his room's door and opened it. He sat down on his bed and tugged John, making him lose his balance and fell over him. Sherlock soon took advantage and made him roll over so he could stay on top of him.

He captured his lips again and John opened his legs with Sherlock between them and their erections together. He soon unbuttoned his pants and his hand went inside, feeling John's hardness against his hand, which made him whimper.

He licked his neck and grabbed his butt, urging the detective to come closer. He took rid of their pants and ended only wearing their underwear, Sherlock some blue boxers and John a red ones.

"You don't know how many times i've pictured you wearing only these..."

He began caressing his erection under his pants and trembled. He hadn't needed anyone as much as he needed Sherlock then, and he became aware of what the detective made him feel. Why had he been so stupid all these time?

He knew the answer: he was afraid. Afraid of feeling what he felt, afraid of being rejected, afraid of losing his best friend.

But he wasn't afraid now. He took away Sherlock's pants and stroked his cock, watching his reactions, his moaning against his skin and felt proud of making him feel that.

He looked down at him, asking for permission. He nodded and caressed his dark curls, messing them more.

He put off his pants slowly and dropped them to the floor and made his way through his tights, feeling their nudity. He slowly introduced one finger inside him, making John whimper. When he was used to it, Sherlock took it out and put on them some lube, then he introduced three fingers.

He moaned loudly after feeling the more strange yet the most pleasant sensation he've ever felt. He wondered where had he found the lube, but soon forgot to ask.

When he felt he was ready, he made his way to his crotch and put his cock at his butt entrance.

"It'll probably hurt you."

"Do it. I don't care."

He slowly slid inside him and he felt about to come, feeling him hot and throbbing. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, probably because of the amount of things he tried to feel at the same time, Sherlock's soft skin, the urge to kiss him, hug him, stay even closer, and he instantly needed more.

"Move."

"But..."

"Do it. I'm fine."

He began slow, but soon they both needed more. Their strokes became more erratic, their breathing superficial. They looked at each other's eyes, Sherlock's face flushed, his eyes dark and his mouth slightly opened trying to catch his breath. He leaned down and kissed him roughly. John tugged his hair again making him come closer and open his mouth, fucking it with his tongue like he was doing with him, and grabbed his butt to make him go faster.

He felt his abdomen tensing, which meant he was about to come and closed his eyes and roared when he did, his cum whitening their abdomens.

Sherlock came instants later and laid on top of him, suddenly feeling too exhausted to move. He slowly slid outside him and rolled left so he didn't flatten John. They spent some time trying to catch his breath. He grabbed something, he quite didn't know what, and cleaned himself as much as he could at that moment.

Sherlock looked down at him, a small smile on his lips.

"Feeling better?" John smiled at him. He quickly lost his smile and looked at him, his pupils darkening again.

"Not as good as I would like." he went on top of him again, rubbing the doctor's now sensitive cock against his own erection "I think I need your services again, doctor." And he leaned down, trapping his sore lips again.

He opened his eyelids slowly, feeling exhausted bur strangely recovered at the same time. He looked around confused when he remembered what happened the night before and blushed. Thanks to a fan's madness he had had the best sex of his life -_three times, he didn't know how he wasn't dead yet_- with the man he lo- cared about. But now that everything had ended, what was their relationship going to be?

He felt the detective move by his side.

"John, shut up." he groaned "You're thinking too loud this morning..."

"Oh, sorry."

He looked up at him and sighed. His clear blue eyes observed him for a moment and then stayed looking at his eyes.

"You are worried about how this is going to change our relationship. You think I acted like that yesterday night because of the hormones. Am I right?"

He blushed "Well... yes."

"Don't be. The hormones were just the catalyst. It incremented my desire, obviously, but it doesn't mean I didn't desire you before. They are part of our body system, not mind controllers. I knew every time what I was doing."

John acquired a bright shade of red on his cheeks listening to him.

"It's not like I didn't picture us doing it in different situations. And sometimes I had the desire to kiss you when you did some good remarks... I thought I was clear enough, but you kept denying it. All the time."

"I'm sorry..." he managed to say

"You are already forgiven. I know it was difficult to overcome the thoughts structured in a mind for so long. Come here."

And they cuddled. Everything was peaceful until he felt something hard against him again.

"Sherlock?" he blurted, blushing again

"It looks there is a residual effect of the hormones... I think I need your services again, doctor."

"I don't know if I can take another round..." he laughed

"Of course you can. You have an erection already."

He took a position between his legs again, making his tights rub agains each other.

"Why did you have lube?"

"I told you, I already knew this was going to happen, but I didn't know when."

He introduced two fingers inside him and he gasped.

"I'm going to fuck you as many times as you have denied your feelings towards me, so are you prepared, John?"

"Oh god yes."


End file.
